


Keep On Walking

by JackOfNone



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 08:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13609908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackOfNone/pseuds/JackOfNone
Summary: Devola and Popola have to keep going -- for each other, if not for themselves.





	Keep On Walking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pirotess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirotess/gifts).



Devola knew she didn't deserve this. She knew it the same way she knew there was coolant pumping through her veins -- maybe she couldn't feel it in the same way she felt the sting of the sand, the pounding heat of the sun, and the gentle squeeze of Popola's hand as they staggered through the desert, but it was always there and you could hear your heart beat if you sat still and listened. That was the background noise of life in the desert -- soft footfalls in the sand, the distant hiss of the wind, and the gnawing of an incomprehensible guilt that threatened to swallow you whole.

"Hold still," Popola said, her voice too gentle by far. The two of them weren't combat models by any means (none of them had ever been meant to fight back, only to observe) but they always did what they were told in the Resistance camp, and more often than not they were ordered out on missions too menial and dangerous to entrust to anyone the Resistance androids wanted to see back in one piece. Today it meant Popola had carried Devola back to camp in her arms after a chance encounter with some feral machine -- some stubby little thing that had taken after the wild beasts of the forest. It looked rather silly stumbling through the undergrowth on its four rusty legs, fleeing from the horn-call of the forest-machines who hunted it without any sense of why, but its jagged teeth and steel claws had done the work of a wolf all the same. Devola had tripped in panic and the thing had clawed her in its fury; Popola had carried her all the way back without a word of complaint. Popola, whose own leg had never quite been fully restored to working order after an angry android had cut her down. 

Popola had curled herself into Devola's lap -- to get a better look at her injury, ostensibly, but also because that was something Popola liked. Her sister always wanted to be close to her, to twine their hands together as they walked and press full-length against her back as they rested. In one hand Popola held her bottle of booze -- she'd retrieved it from somewhere in their tiny stash as soon as they'd returned and she seemed already a little drunk. Not enough to make her fall asleep, or to keep her from repairing her sister's damage, but a little. Enough that she could manage a smile as she curled her hand around the back of Devola's shoulder, right where the machine had cut her. 

"Oh, that's not so bad," Popola cooed, her fingers carefully exploring the frayed edge of Devola's artificial skin, prodding gently at the exposed metal. It hurt, but Devola didn't mind that -- not when it was Popola. There was never any cruelty between them. After all, there was enough of that to be found in the world outside. "Nothing broken underneath, just a little dented and scratched. Once the bleeding's stopped, a little bit of silicone filler over the top and you'll barely be able to tell where it was." Popola's hand left the wound to play with her hair before coming to rest on her cheek. 

Here in the back of the Resistance camp storage tent, alone and away from the cold eyes of the Resistance androids, it was easier to accept Popola's affection. It was easier to pretend, for a few moments at least, that they could be enough for each other. 

Popola deserved this, even if Devola felt she herself did not. And she knew Popola must feel the same way about her. 

Was that why they were built like this -- two of a kind? And was it mercy that they both had a reason to keep putting one foot in front of the other, or another kind of punishment? 

Devola thought about that often, but their creators were long gone and unfathomable. Who knows if they even understood their designs themselves.

"Hey, I'll get you a drink," Popola murmured, head tilted into the curve of Devola's shoulder. "Maybe it'll help a little, yeah? Take the edge off?" Devola tilted Popola's head up a little and studied the flushed look of her face before pressing their lips together. Her sister's skin was all dusty, and the inside of her mouth tasted like booze and blood. Devola carded her fingers through Popola's hair and teased behind her ear with her nails, just to hear that little pleased sound from the back of her throat that she only let herself make after a few drinks. 

"In a minute," Devola said. "Let's rest like this. Just a little while." 

Maybe, Devola thought as she watched Popola's eyes flutter closed...maybe, if I can just keep her smile in this world, it'll still be worth living in.


End file.
